‘Is that it, nothing else?’
‘No, that’s it really. Although, I’m supposed to keep an eye on you guys until you board your flight back to England. If you let me have your cell number we can get together again one final time in New York. Call me when you drop your car off at the rental office, and I’ll pick you up from there. We can grab a quick coffee, and then I’ll drop you at the departure terminal.’
‘Sounds like a good plan,’ said Cole. He was starting to like Harbour. His mild manner and easy-going nature made him seem like a decent guy. He definitely planned to look him up when they all got back to London. It’s always useful having contacts in the intelligence services.
‘Seems like you won’t have a lot to report when you get home,’ said Hedge.
‘No not really. There was an FBI agent tailing you for a while, but even he has now given up the chase. I suspect our American friends wanted to know why I was following you. That’s why they were interested. It all appears to have blown over now though.’
They left the cafe and shook hands on the street outside. Hedge and Cole headed off to get a closer glimpse of the White House. Harbour had seen it before. So instead, he walked south down 13th street, in the direction of the Washington Monument. He was hoping to get to the top and see a better view of the city.
The man following Harbour had a slim build, and wore a thick, blue sweatshirt. He had the hood pulled up over his head, which didn’t exactly look out of place as it wasn’t a warm day. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and his hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans. He sloped along about twenty yards behind his target. The way he swaggered gave him the appearance of a teenager. He was somewhat older than that though. The first man he had ever killed was at least twenty years ago. He remembered the event clearly. It had been a busy day for him. First the shooting, then disposing of the gun, and finally, rushing home in time for his thirteenth birthday party. His unknowing parents had been so proud of him back then.
He clicked on his ear-piece radio as the man in front of him turned right.
‘He’s just turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue, heading west. He’s alone. The other two went off somewhere else.’
He listened for a while. He was being given his final instructions.
‘Yes okay. I understand. He’s just turned south on 15th street. It looks like he’s heading in the direction of the Monument. Yes, okay.’
He clicked off the radio, and put his hand on the object in his sweatshirt pocket. He’d bought it from a toy shop a few days ago. It was plastic, and had a range of just five yards. He wrapped his finger round the trigger. Then he smiled. From his other pocket he pulled out a cigarette packet. He took one out and lit it. He shouldn’t be doing that. He had given up smoking for good about five years ago, just after his father had died from lung cancer. He took a deep draw on the cigarette. Bloody hell, did that feel good or what? He blew the smoke out slowly, and then crossed the road ahead of him, still following his target.
Harbour stopped just in front of the Washington Monument. He had read a bit about the structure, and was keen to get a look from the top. He knew it was over five hundred and fifty five feet tall. Not a difficult number to remember. He had also learned that the original builders had run out of money after only part of the structure had been built. The government stepped in some twenty five years later to fund and finish the project. As they weren’t able to match the original marble, the newly quarried stone was slightly different. Hence the change in the marble’s colour about a third of the way up the building.
Harbour felt a tingle of excitement and walked on towards the Monument. What he didn’t feel was the spray from the water pistol being held by the man in the blue sweatshirt. He was standing a few feet away, pointing the plastic toy at the MI5 agent, and he was repeatedly squeezing the trigger. Several lines of a clear, gel-like liquid were now running down the back Harbour’s suit jacket.
The hooded man aimed the pistol a little higher and some of the liquid splashed against the back of Harbour’s neck. He instantly put a hand to the back of his head, wondering what it was. Then he turned and saw a man squirting a water pistol at him.
‘What the hell are you doing mister?’
The man just laughed, and carried on spraying him.
Just as Harbour reached out for the toy gun, the man took a cigarette from his mouth and flicked it towards him. The MI5 man reacted instantly and tried to bat it away. But he missed, and the cigarette hit him square on the chest. Instantly, he heard a loud ‘whoosh’ noise, and the front of his suit was suddenly ablaze. He tried to bang the flames out with his hands, but that seemed to make things worse. The arms of his jacket were now on fire, and he could feel the skin on his hands starting to burn and melt. His back now felt incredibly hot, and he realised with horror that his whole body was on fire.
He screamed for help, but there were only a few people nearby, and they just seemed to stare at him in bewilderment. He saw the man with the water pistol. He was laughing loudly. Then he turned and ran off. That was the last thing he saw, as a split second later, such was the intensity of the flames engulfing him, his eyeballs melted. His entire body was in excruciating pain, and he was quickly turning into a charred mass of bone and tissue. The MI5 man fell to the ground. His face was now completely burnt off. The pain was unbearable. The very last breath he took scorched his throat and lungs. Then it was all over. His flesh was black. His body was black. Everything was black.
The man with the blue sweatshirt walked east down Constitution Avenue and stopped just outside the building that housed the National Gallery of Art. He waited for thirty seconds, as he had been instructed. After a while, a tall, overweight man was approaching him. He stopped just in front of the hooded man.
‘Well?’
‘It’s all done, as requested.’
‘Excellent. This is your reward.’
He passed across a white envelope. The man in blue opened it, looked inside, and nodded.
‘Many thanks,’ he said.
Then he added with a smile, ‘but don’t invite me to any more of your barbecue’s, the meat is terribly overdone.’
The fat Cuban didn’t laugh. He just turned and walked away.
Chapter Thirty Seven
It was going to be their last full day in the USA, and they would spend it in New York. Hedge and Cole were flying back to London at six o’clock the following morning. Even though it was still early in the day, Cole suggested that they drop the Mustang off at the car rental office straight away, as driving it round the city would be difficult due to the incredibly busy traffic. Trying to park it would be even worse.
The guy at the rental return centre was friendly and clearly liked to talk.
‘Just drop her off in any of the empty bays. How did you guys find driving this baby? Roars like a lion, doesn’t she? What kind of mileage you boys been getting to the gallon?’
He was firing questions at them, but not waiting for answers. Cole smiled at the man, but spoke firmly.
‘How about we just get the car checked in, and then we can be on our way.’
The man ignored him and carried on asking questions. A few moments later, they were interrupted by an official sounding man, in a dark suit. He had walked across towards them from the main rental office. There was a concerned look on his face.
‘I don’t want this car left here. It needs to go on the car carrier trailer. We have to get it back to where it came from. Are you the person who’s had this car out?’
Cole looked at him and nodded. He still had the car keys in his hand. He held them out for the suited man.
‘I don’t want them. I need you to drive the car down to the end of this road. There’s a big car trailer waiting there. This vehicle has to go on that.’
‘Please,’ said Cole sarcastically. He was finding the man’s tone a little annoying.
‘Ok, please then. And straight away if you could.’
Hedge and Cole got back
in the Mustang and drove a few blocks down the road. They quickly found what they were looking for. Parked next to a disused warehouse was a large car transporter. From a distance it looked like it was already full, but as they drove up next to the huge trailer, it was clear that one more car could slot onto the back. The transporter had two levels to it, and Hedge counted nine cars already loaded. There were six vehicles on the top level, and three currently occupying the lower part of the trailer. A white tractor unit was attached to the front of the car transporter, with what appeared to be an enormous diesel tank strapped to the side of it. The whole set up was very long, and at first glance, the cars looked like they had been randomly loaded onto the carrier. On closer inspection though, Hedge noticed that each one had been carefully placed so that not only was it totally secure, but also it didn’t come into contact with any of the immediately adjacent cars.
Hedge nodded in appreciation. ‘Very clever,’ he said to no one in particular.
A small, dark skinned man jumped down from the tractor unit at the front of the trailer. He walked over to where Cole had pulled up in the dark grey Mustang. He held out his hand as Cole got out of the car.
‘Hi, I’m Pedro. You have another car from southern California.’
‘I’m Cole. Yes, we have come from San Diego. We were asked to drop the car here. ’
‘That’s great. Leave it with me. I’ll give you a lift back to the rental office. You can get a taxi from there.’
‘Excellent,’ said Cole.
He handed the Mustang’s keys to Pedro, and then he and Hedge jumped in the back of his old saloon car. As they drove the short distance back to the rental office, Hedge had a question that he had been burning to ask.
‘So why do you take these cars back on a trailer. Why not get another customer who’s driving west to rent them? That would surely make more business sense.’
Pedro looked suddenly quite nervous. ‘Don’t ask me. I just do what I’m told to do.’
That was factually true. He did exactly what he was told to do. That’s what he got paid for. He had also been told, quite forcibly by his employer, not to ask or answer questions.
Hedge shrugged his shoulders, and thought nothing more of it. He leaned forward and picked up a crumpled magazine that was lying on the passenger seat. It had been left open on a double page spread advertisement for the One World Trade Center. The article was a complete visitor information guide to the massive new tower.
‘Wow,’ said Hedge, ‘that looks fantastic. And you can go to the top and have a birds-eye view of New York. Have you been to the tower yet Pedro?’
Again, the dark skinned man looked worried. He mumbled a few words which Hedge didn’t catch.
‘Was that a yes or no?’
‘I went there a few days ago. It’s a great place to visit. And it’s right next to the 9-11 Memorial.’
‘Cole, we should go and visit, this afternoon, it’s going to be our only chance.’
Pedro turned his head as if to say something. His eyes blinked quickly a few times. But he remained silent. A couple of minutes later he dropped them off at the rental office, said a brief goodbye, before quickly driving off.
‘He was a bit weird,’ said Cole, ‘and a bit of a fighter judging by his appearance. That black eye and split nose couldn’t have been more than a few days old.’
Then he strolled off in search of a taxi.
Chapter Thirty Eight
‘Look at the size of that. It’s just incredible.’
Hedge was looking up. His eyes could only just make out the top of the One World Trade Center. Cole was standing next to him, also looking skywards.
‘Yes. It’s impressive.’
They had just viewed the 9-11 Memorial. This consists of an identical pair of square holes in the ground, with a clever waterfall system around each square. They were constructed on the site of the two original Twin Towers. It was a chilling place to be. It had now been many years since terrorists had crashed two aircraft into the old World Trade Center buildings, killing almost three thousand souls. Thousands of people now come to the site each week to pay their respects, and to visit the Memorial Museum. The area was normally very busy, and packed with people. Today was no exception.
They were both feeling a bit sombre, but Hedge was still keen to ascend the new tower. He wasn’t the only one, as the queues for the ticket office were long.
‘At almost eighteen hundred feet, the tower is the tallest building in the western hemisphere. Its construction costs were almost four billion dollars.’ Hedge was reading from an information leaflet as they waited patiently in line.
Cole changed the subject abruptly. ‘It’s rather strange that our MI5 friend didn’t contact us. I’ve tried to call him on his cell phone, but it just keeps going to voicemail.’
‘Perhaps he got tired of your company,’ Hedge laughed. ‘He’s probably on his way back to England by now.’
‘I guess so.’ Cole didn’t seem convinced.
As they neared the front of the ticket queue, Hedge suddenly grabbed hold of his friend’s arm.
‘Cole. Look what has just pulled up outside.’
‘Where are you looking? And what are you looking at?’
‘Over there, on the road in front of the building.’
‘What, the car carrier trailer?’
‘Yes, a car trailer, but not just any car trailer. Take a look at the vehicle on the very back of it.’
Cole looked carefully. He stepped out of the ticket queue briefly, to get a clearer view.
‘That’s quite a coincidence,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘Indeed it is.’
They were both looking at the large car transporter. On the back of it was a dark grey Mustang. It was the very same car that they had just driven across the United States.
‘Hey, are you guys in the line, or what?’
An overweight man with a southern, drawling accent was addressing the two of them. With their attention now on the large vehicle, they had upset the flow of the queue.
Cole gave the man a hard stare, and then they both stepped away from the line. Now they noticed that the front door of the white tractor unit was opening. They recognised the short, dark-skinned man, who they had met only yesterday. He stepped out onto the sidewalk. He looked nervous, and possibly a little frightened, Hedge thought. He slowly walked away from the vehicle, heading east away from this area of lower Manhattan.
‘Now what the hell is he up to?’ Cole was shaking his head.
‘I can’t explain this sequence of events,’ said Hedge quite suddenly, in a strange, soft voice.
Cole looked at him. His partner had a weird, quizzical look on his face. He had seen it several times before. Hedge was an odd person at times. He could be nervous, and often appeared quite vulnerable. But, Cole knew that he had a razor sharp mind. It could work like a computer. He would have made an ideal code-breaker.
‘What can’t you explain?’
‘I can’t explain this sequence of events,’ he repeated.
‘What are you talking about?’
Hedge seemed to ignore him. His lips were mouthing sentences, but to Cole they made no sense. His eyes were staring straight ahead, but somehow unseeing.
‘What’s the car trailer doing here? ... Why is our car being taken back on it? ... Why our car? ... Why did he have the magazine advertising the tower? ... Where’s the driver gone? ...’
Cole was still watching Hedge. With his odd eye movements and his strange mumblings, he thought he looked like a computer working through a series of outcomes, trying to find the best one.
Hedge continued his rambling, his eyes still blindly staring towards the transporter.
‘Why were we followed? ... Was it the police officer in San Diego? ... What about the FBI guy? ...Where did he go? What’s the MI5 interest? ... Why follow us, not Maddie? ... Why our car? ... Why not the orange one? ... Why was it faster though? ... What about the guy killed by the train? ... He
looked Mexican? ... Why faster? ... Why Mexican? ...’
Then Hedge suddenly stopped mouthing sentences. It was almost like he had suddenly reached a conclusion. His eyes came back to life with a flash.
‘Oh my god,’ he said quietly.
‘Have you worked out the best outcome at last,’ Cole said sarcastically. ‘Was it professor plum, in the ballroom, with the lead piping?’ The joke seemed to be lost on his friend.
Hedge turned to look at him.
‘No. There is no best outcome, quite the opposite. It’s the worst possible outcome, something quite unimaginable.
And it’s about to happen right here in front of us.’
Chapter Thirty Nine
Hedge was running towards the building’s exit. Once through the door, he turned in the direction of the car carrier trailer. It seemed massive, parked here on the street, with several large city blocks as a backdrop.
Cole caught him up, and grabbed his arm.
‘What’s about to happen?’ he shouted.
Hedge seemed to ignore the question. He was staring directly at the vehicle, and all the various cars that were loaded on it.
‘Doesn’t that look out of place to you?’
‘Of course it does, so what?’
‘Why do you think we have been followed, all the way from San Diego?’
Cole thought for a moment and then he replied. ‘It was Maddie, what she saw. She witnessed a murder. Worse than that, she witnessed a murder carried out by a police officer.’
Hedge shook his head. ‘Remember what the dark-skinned man said, before he bled to death by the train. He was told to follow the car.’
‘Exactly, just what I said.’
‘No. You said follow Maddie. He was told to follow the car. This has all been about keeping an eye on our car.’
Cole still looked unconvinced. ‘But we had two cars.’
‘But only one of them mattered, that one.’ Hedge pointed towards the dark grey Mustang on the back of the car trailer.
The Transamerica Cell: A fast paced, gripping, action adventure, conspiracy thriller, with a superb, breath-taking ending (Hedge & Cole Book 3) Page 15
